Imprinting?
by CrazyAna
Summary: A night of passion in a place far away. An exotic woman and a native man. An unknown.. something.. that bound them together. What was that? And more importantly, what now?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me, but my imagination.

 **Chapter 01:**

"You!" the woman wailed in her British accent. She walked faster than her smaller gait should have allowed, her hand out-stretched with her forefinger pointing straight ahead of her, to the third one in a trio that was crouched quite carelessly by the beach.

The woman cut a fearsome figure with her hair crackling with energy, swinging behind her in a disarray and her eyes blazing with enough fire to put an active volcano to shame.

The trio looked up to see what the commotion was all about and the first two men saw their third comrade freezing beside them. _Nothing new there then,_ they smirked. Paul was after all the man-whore of the reservation and having girls throw themselves at him (for one or another, depending if it was before the act or after) was not really news to anyone anymore.

Sam, the eldest one in the trio, though, gave a long, hard look at his newest _brother_ , something did seem different about him now. Since the day he had come back from his trip to Vegas, earlier than expected actually, he had been _different_. He looked pained… melancholy even, opting to be by himself, staring at the crashing waves, instead of scouting the beach for his next lay, like he would do before the trip. Sam had been sure _something_ had happened to him during the trip. Now, he thought he had his answer right in front of him. _Literally_.

The curly haired woman ignored the first two beefy guys and concentrated on the third one who looked stilled at the sight of her.

"You dunderhead! You bound me to you!"

Paul smiled goofily at the woman, as if his world was suddenly put to rights.

The woman twisted her pout this way and that. "Were you hit on the head one too many times or have you always been an idiot?"

Paul only stared at her, as if he couldn't quite believe his eyes yet.

The woman's anger spurned on. "Would you like to know why I am here, instead of living my happy life in London, _England_?" she asked icily. Sam could swear he felt the temperature drop around them by a few degrees at her tone.

"You see this?" she pulled at the collar of her crew neck t-shirt. "That's binding, you baboon. You bound me to you! How could you do such a thing without even asking me first?"

Paul, and his brothers' gazes slipped to the skin that was now left open for their perusal. And there, right at the base on her long neck, on her pale, ivory skin were the teeth marks she was referring to. A puncturing wound that had broken the skin. It looked a few weeks old but remained unhealed, as if it would stay there for all of eternity.

They stared at it with confusion before they heard a soft growling from beside them. Turning, they realized it was aimed at them! The angry possession and fierce threat that was implied in the ominous sound going missed by neither.

Sam cocked his brow at him while Jared chuckled amused and yet Paul did not drop his angry gaze from either until they looked away from his mate's exposed skin.

Turning back to her then, his heart beat ecstatically at the sight of the mark he had felt compelled to leave on her sometime during their passionate night two weeks back.

Nothing had seemed right to him since the morning after, when he'd woken up alone in his bed. Despite always liking women who knew their place in his life and would leave him alone right the next morning, when he'd woken up in a cold bed, he'd felt empty inside.

Hollowed.

As if all his life's joy had been sucked out.

He had felt so rejected that he had cut his trip short and returned immediately. Though there hadn't been any solace here either.

Something was not right. All felt wrong. He felt amiss, like a gaping hole was left where his heart used to be.

All the girls from his previous encounters and the new ones, they all smelled something rotten, looked bad, their high pitched voices grated on his eardrums, they just felt dirty… _Wrong_.

He had not taken anyone to bed since the woman in front of him. He didn't want to. Not anymore.

Instead, he had withdrawn from everything.

He knew the elders and his brothers felt the difference in him, wrought within two short days of his Vegas trip, but none voiced it out loud, knowing his volatile disposition.

But now _she_ was there. Blazingly angry but _there._ Right before him, where he could see her, inhale her alluring scent, touch her porcelain skin. He gulped.

"Hey!" She snapped her fingers in front of his unblinking eyes, making him blink and bringing his attention back to her eyes. "Do you have any explanations you'd like to offer before I hex you into the new year?"

"You're here.." was all Paul could whisper, his tone awed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 02:**

Of all the things that could have gone wrong with her leaving her hair down for a day, _being bound to a magical creature_ , was not one she had thought of.

When Hermione had finally convinced herself to apparate for a day to Vegas, albeit on a bet from Ron who had laughed at her reluctance to break from her carefully set routine, all she had expected was to see the city of sin, play a game or two at some casino, grab a few drinks and may be get a good shag to break the tension within.

But, no!

She had to make a beeline for the one man who had it in him to change her _entire bloody life_ in the span of a night!

So, now, she, Hermione Granger, the Hogwarts insufferable know-it-all who was now championing the causes of all magical beings in Britain, had received a _fucking warning letter_ from The Magical Congress of the United States of America to get back to her shape-shifting _mate_ before he turned suicidal! _The cheek_!

The letter had been dropped at her office no less and her entire career was on line for the nation now saw their war heroin as a two-faced bitch who pressed the Wizengamot for laws to better the lives of magical creatures and yet left her own mate out in the woods!

And the worst part of it all? _Her stupid mate hadn't even warned her about binding her to him!_ He'd simply gone ahead and done the deed, without so much as a by your leave!

"Of course I'm here, you stupid man! Where else will I be WHEN YOU'VE BOUND ME TO YOU!"

"What do you mean, he's bound you to him?"

"And can you please speak a little softly?"

His friends spoke up from beside him.

"Oh, I'm sorry, where are my manners. I must not be screaming like this on a beach. I mean, really, what's the big problem? It's _only_ my ENTIRE BLOODY LIFE THAT'S SHOVED UPSIDE DOWN! Of course, I won't speak softly, you moron. _You_ get your tailor made life thrown upside down because of a one night stand and then come speak to me _softly_ about it," she said menacingly to the shortest one of the three.

"And by bound me," she glared at the tallest one, "I mean he's marked me as his soul-mate, quite literally, might I add, without consulting me at all. I have to pack my life and move to whole new continent, to live with a man I do not know a thing about. And what's more? I now have a written warning from your ministry asking me to do just that, and thanks to that wonderful warning, my entire nation sees me as a two-faced hypocrite."

"You're worse than a Veela, you know. A Veela's possessiveness can be troublesome, but they never do anything against their mate's wishes. But you…. you've ruined everything. Everything I've worked for, everything I've strived hard for.. it's all gone. All gone because you couldn't even get yourself to tell me what you've gone and done."

And she broke down, sobbing in front of the surprised trio.

Paul worked on auto-pilot. He'd never been one to console crying girls, especially girls that were crying because of him, but he stepped forward and held her close, instinctively knowing she'd be unable to stand by herself. Without realising it, she leaned into him and he knelt on the soft sand, tugging her along. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and cried until exhaustion finally claimed her consciousness.

Paul held her close, rubbing her back to calm her while whispering non-sensical soothing words in her ears. He didn't care that his pack brothers saw him doing that, their presence far from his mind that only thought of ways to quieten the crying woman in his arms. That and how to keep her right where she was.

Every shuddering breath of hers was slicing his heart in a million ways, driving her pain bone deep into his very being, until he finally felt her going lax in his arms. Her breathing evened out and her body sagged onto his.

He moved his arms around and lifted her up, rising himself and carried her back to his cottage with him after promising to see his brothers the next day once he had some more answers (or questions, more like, he thought).


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 03:**

Paul laid the petite woman on his bed and moved behind to adjust his pillow just right for her. He then pulled out his duvet from his wardrobe where he'd stored it after he started phasing, not needing it anymore despite the chill of the rain-heavy air, and covered her small form with it.

He then sat by the sole chair in his bedroom, the one that sat by his small study table tucked in a corner, and watched the sleeping woman silently.

His mind inordinately flashed back to the day a fortnight back that had brought her here to him. She was wildly angry at him for what she thought he did, he knew, but he still felt a small smile tugging at his lips as that day played in his mind's eye.

~ _flashback_ ~

Paul was a happy, happy guy that day. He had finally collected enough money to afford a weekend getaway some place far and Sam had cleared his holiday after a lot of relentless pleading.

He understood where Sam came from, they were just three of them that had phased, despite the long years that had passed since their first phasing. So, there were just the three of them to take care of the entire reserve, and with him gone, both Sam and Jarod would be hard pressed with the extra patrol shifts they'd have to take up.

But Paul really needed the vacation!

His time before phasing had sucked, thanks in a big part to an abusive father and then his life had been tossed into a right whirlwind when he had phased.

Don't get him wrong, being a wolf was probably the coolest thing he'd ever done but it still restricted his life in more ways than one.

So, after finishing school, he'd joined Sam and Jarod and they'd formed their own construction company and he had promised himself a nice trip as a gift after their first successful project.

And yet a good year had passed after their first few projects, mind you, that he finally put his foot down. He was going on his trip and nothing could deter him.

So he goaded Sam to his wits end for a weekend leave and then booked the first available flight to the cheapest place he could find, since he wanted to spend his money at the destination rather than the travel. With his wolf's healing, quick as it was, mere joint crinks from jammed spaces could not affect him much and the cheapest flight had been to Las Vegas, so he definitely was not changing his destination. Simple really.

"Booze, gambling and shags, here I come," he grinned and picked up his beaten backpack from the rickety table in his hall and almost skipped his way to his car.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Unlike his miserly travel, he had splurged on a hotel room and settled well in the plush suite he had rented for the weekend. After an amazingly perfect shower, he had hopped down to the bar, wanting to get a few drinks in himself before hitting the in-house casino. Not that he could get drunk anymore, but he liked to grab a pint or two every now and then, just for old times sakes.

And that was where all had changed for him.

He saw a young woman, gingerly making her way to the bar. She could not have looked more out of place with her dark grey pencil-skirt stopping right at her knees, a no non-sense cap-sleeved white blouse on top of it, tucked in immaculately in the skirt, and a charcoal grey coat draped over her left hand. Her extremely practical black ballets were doing her small frame no favours either.

But what had caught his attention was the brunette bun on her head. Her hair looked wild naturally, yet the prissy bun looked tamed and officious, as if she had consciously dabbled its spirit to portray something that wasn't her true self, hiding her wildering passion from others. And he was itching to find out if his theory was true.

As luck would have it, she had seen him staring heatedly at her, yet instead of running the other way around like her dress dictated, she came straight to him, placing herself right in his personal space. He had checked her out thoroughly in the close proximity and a particular part of his anatomy had _really_ _appreciated_ her sophisticated look.

Until he had looked into her eyes. Their effect on him had been immediate. Their call to him, true. He'd drowned in their deep, dark depths, knowing he'd never arise from them again. His heart had skipped a beat only to pick it up erratically again. He didn't care what she wanted of him, he only knew he'd deliver it straight away, or die trying.

Then she had spoken to him.

Her sweet voice had sent him straight to the top-most levels of the heavens where only ecstasy prevailed, nothing else.

The how and why of their tumble in his bed were a big blur in his mind. He only remembered kissing her all through the way from the bar to his room, and now that he thought about it, he realised it was a miracle that he had even remembered where his room was and more so that he hadn't just taken her in the elevator leading up to his room, if not right at the bar. It had almost felt like an invisible force had pushed them both beyond the realm of reason, right into each other's arms.

And he had never been happier.

His entire trip, delayed as it was, his trip to the bar, it all fit because somewhere deep-down in his heart he had known that she was the reason. He was sent there, at the right time, at the right place only to find her and be with her.

 _Hermione Granger_ she had introduced herself as, it was the only thing he had remembered from the bar.

"Hermione," he had whispered in prayer, once the door to his room was shut behind them and he had kneeled in front of her, slipping the hooks of her sensible skirt off and tugging the all-covering garment down.

When he had stood up to pull at her blouse, her hands had frantically come down to his shirt, unbuttoning it with a frenzy, all the while they both hadn't pulled away from the other's mouth.

Then she had plucked at the button on the zip of his jeans. He had had to hold her small hands in his own to stop her, pushing her backwards, into his room, close to his bed. And that was when he had looked at her, all his theories of her repressed wild side confirmed.

The naughty black teddy that had some sheer fabric on her tummy and floral lace hiding her true treasures was at absolute odds with her prissy hair bun, though he'd done a good job of musing it for her, loosening it's tight grip, settling it on her nape with strays falling all over her lovely heart-shaped face.

Eyes had turned black with arousal, hers and his, as he had pulled at the stick that was barely containing her wild mane and her curls had slipped free, cascading down her shoulders, reaching her mid-back.

He had fisted his hands in her hair and brought her mouth to his, showing her with his tongue what he wanted to do to her.

She had hummed in pleasure and the keening noises she was making had fired him on. From where he had the patience to pull at her teddy instead of ripping it off, he did not know but within seconds the teasing undergarment was on the floor.

She stood proud and beautiful, like Venus rising from the waves and he'd been unable to stop himself from trailing his kisses lower, over the side of her slender neck, up on her eminent collar bone, between the hollow of her ripe mounds that were flushed with the heat of the moment, then lower across her flat tummy, right on the thin line of fine, brown hair that trailed a path below her navel showing him where she needed his attentions the most.

And he had happily obliged.

Rubbing against the backs of her legs, he had pushed her forward, her intimate folds coming right in front of his eager mouth and he had dipped his head for a taste of her nectar.

She had clutched at his hair and pushed at his shoulder, keeping him where he was, not that he had had any plans of moving any time soon.

He had pleasured her weeping clit, sucking it into his hot mouth from between his teeth, then when her thudding heart had spoken to him of her approval of his actions, he had brought one hand around and pushed his long and brawny finger in.

Her knees had bucked and he had immediately stood up, supporting her light weight with his own blessed body and then thrown her on his big, soft bed, hovering over her petite form as she had settled herself on it.

Then their passion had begun.

His mouth had pleasured hers, moving towards her breast that were craving his attention too, and he happily lavished it on them both. She had brought her hands down between them and finished what he had interrupted earlier, pulling his zipper down and pushing at his jeans unceremoniously.

He had barely made it out of his pants, somehow remembering to pull out a condom from his wallet before he lost his jeans for the night.

A few of them had fallen on the bed and Hermione had quirked her brow at him in amusement.

"Oh, I plan on using them all with you, tonight," he had risen to the unspoken challenge.

Her following blush had been from embarrassment or anticipation, he wasn't too sure. A little bit of both, he had hoped.

Ripping one pack with his teeth, he had pulled out the rubber and covered his erection. Without waiting for a sign, he had pushed her legs apart, placing himself between them and then pushed inside her heated core.

Her satisfied moan that had appreciated the way he had filled her had gone straight to both his heads and he'd rocked their bed in his enthusiasm, soon spilling inside the condom while still being sheathed lovingly in her confined warmth.

When he'd slid right out of her wet heat, he'd known he hadn't held himself back for long enough, but the purring wolf inside him had consoled him about the night being too young to feel let down just yet.

Not giving her time to realise what had happed, he had glided his way down her body, giving her head more thorough than he had ever done in the past and yet her wetness hadn't abated.

His wolf had growled from the inside in frustration and something had snapped within him.

For the first time ever, he had felt his wolf come up and take charge while he was still a human.

As if she had known what had happened, Hermione had widened her eyes comically. In an outer body experience, he had felt himself turn her around with one small tug and land her on her stomach. Finding his way between the mattress and her body, he had continued to pull her up on her fours and then he'd done the wolf thing to do.

He had mounted her.

From the back.

And impaled her.

Thoroughly.

His wolf had her writhing and growling in pleasure and he had heard himself groaning and grunting in tune with her.

Then somehow, his hand had found its way to her weeping clit and circled it, pulling her closer to him, making her arch her back in pleasure and then he'd bent his head and kissed the soft spot just under her neck, that was popping her heart's erratic rhythm, dancing with his rough thrusts in her.

And he had bitten her.

Almost like a leech did for a feed, he had noticed, paling.

Yet his thrusts hadn't stopped.

His teeth had broken her skin and left a purple mark of possession on her ivory skin there.

She had _howled_ her pleasure to the high heavens at that and his wolf had smugly joined in, both of them mating like a wolf couple in heat but in a completely human environment.

She had crashed soon after, and he had happily crushed her with his own weight, both sighing in pleasure at the deed done.

Carefully, then, he had detached himself from her and moved in beside her, stretching his tall form, touching it to her small one.

She had smiled sleepily and folded herself into him, moulding her body perfectly against his, just as he had brought his long arm out and tucked her closer to himself, to keep her warm.

He had woken up soon, intent on fulfilling his promise to her – of using the fallen condoms on her that same night but she wasn't there.

He had searched for her all through his room and then all around the hotel, even charming it's manager to inform him of her room number, but she hadn't been booked with them.

She was gone.

Left, as she had come, without a trace.

He had been broken since.

Until now.

He came back to the present, watching over the sleeping woman in his bed.

He would not let her leave him like that, ever again, he promised, intending to ensure he was able to keep his promise this time around.

 _I'll watch over her like a hawk if I have to, but I won't live in a world without her ever again._

The fierceness of his promise, shone like fire in his eyes…


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 04:**

Hermione woke up to the sensation of a ghosting kiss to her forehead, though when she finally rubbed the sleep off her eyes, she found no other occupant in the darkened bedroom. She cast a 'Lumos' to look around properly and found a neatly folded piece of paper on the pillow beside hers.

Suddenly a wayward thought cut through her haze. _Was he sleeping beside me?_ her hand shot out to touch the mattress for a confirmation but the mattress remained cold beneath her searching fingers, soothing her panicked breathing.

She then pulled the note off to read it.

 _Hermione,_

 _I had to leave for some urgent tribe business. Please stay and make yourself at home._

 _We'll talk once I'm back. Hopefully, I'll have some answers for you then._

 _Yours,_

 _Paul_

Hermione twisted her pout in thought, wondering if his words were chosen deliberately or not. _Make yourself at home. Yours._ Was he doing it all on purpose?

She moved her pillow and the duvet around a bit and settled comfortably with her back against the headboard and the duvet pulled till her chin. She leaned her head down on her knees and thought back to the day that had landed her there, like that, alone in a strange land on a stranger's bed. _A stranger who is your soulmate_ , her conscience chastised.

Who would've thought that, she, Hermione Granger would find her soulmate in a magical being on a continent so far removed from hers, that too because she was on a dare!

She had had a day from hell itself, her only solace had been that it was Friday and that she could finish the remainder of her work at her own house, in peace, all through the weekend.

But nooo! Fates had other plans!

They had landed Ronald Bilius Weasley on her floo. Just like always, he had found the quickest way to get on her last frayed nerve, teasing her about living her life like the house-elves that she was trying to free, bound to ministry's terrible workings while _he, that ass,_ enjoyed his time at the joke shop working with his brother in their own business.

Hermione exhaled a long sigh. _Why had it ticked her off so much_ , she did know. But at that time, it had! And one thing had led to another and she had found herself pulling out a world map and asking that idiotic best friend of hers to select a place where she would spend her weekend. He had laughed and told her she wouldn't be able to stay away from her beloved work for the entire weekend and without even looking at the map he pointed at a random place.

That place, on zooming the magical map, she had found to be Las Vegas! She had laughed in his face and told him that she'd be out in an hour, port-keying to the city of sins and committing a few sins there herself! Ronald had continued laughing and then escorted her to the ministry for a private portkey and kissed her farewell, asking her to stay away and not be back until late night Sunday. _That_ had been the dare!

When she had reached the magical side of Las Vegas, she had hightailed it out of there through the muggle entrance of the city and taxied it to the other side of the town where she would remain a nameless stranger.

Stepping into the crowded bar of the first hotel she had come across, her magic had tingled, urging her on, forward, towards the tall russet coloured man staring at her from the bar counter. Her thoughts had quit on her, returning with great difficulty, only after she found herself in his private space, almost between his parted thighs.

Her magic had gone berserk when he had touched her fleetingly on her arm, his brown eyes speaking much more than what he probably ever could, and for once Hermione had found it impossible to shirk her instincts, their consequences be damned!

How she had found her self naked beside his bed, she had no clue. But when he'd bent down and kissed her intimately, her magic had come alive. It had risen up in a ball all around them both, tugging and poking at him, trying to get him to respond.

 _Why?_ _Was he not a muggle?_

She had lost herself to that thought. She felt him impaling her, her body responded to his, yet her mind was occupied by other thoughts. Her magic had gone askew, asking him for something that he wanted to return, she knew, she could feel it somehow, but he did not know what to do. And for the first time, neither did she.

Then something in him had snapped.

His lust-filled brown eyes had commanded her own and with one look, one unspoken command, she had lost herself to him. She knew.

She probably could never explain it in words, but he had finally responded to her magic's tug and his answering growl and fired her passion and calmed her soul, all at once.

He had taken her like an animal and she had submitted to his feral needs, accepting it, _accepting him_. She had never been submissive about anything in her life, everyone who knew her would vouch for it. Yet, when he had snapped in his own frustration and responded to her magic's calls, she had been lost. Lost to the world. Lost to the act. Lost to _him_.

She was never a loud lay, yet she had howled her pleasure for all to hear and he had rejoiced in his achievements, as if he knew what a feat he had managed.

All had calmed in and around them as they tucked themselves in the other's arms.

She had been slick with sweat when she had woken up. Seeing him, her first thoughts were to wake him and make him live up to his promise of using up all his condoms on her. But then all her faculties had started working and she had realised that what had conspired between them was much more than a simple out of town strange. It was much more than a one night stand or even a weekend lay. It was so much beyond mere fucking or even the fabled love making.

When she had closed the door behind herself, the soft click echoing the finality to her actions, her magic had wept, mournfully pleading with her to turn back and go straight into the sleeping stranger's arms and stay there, for good this time.

That had pushed her forward.

It was unnatural, the way she had reacted to him.

It scared her.

Her fear made her leave.

But here she was now, in his house, on his bed.

 _Alone._

She did not like it one bit, though she didn't know which part she was objecting to… was it being on his bed, in his turf or was it being their all alone…


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 05:**

Hermione was glowering at the broken state of his home when Paul got back.

"What shape did you say you shift into?" she enquired with saccharine sweetness.

Paul furrowed his brows. "I didn't," he said wondering how she knew what he could do.

"Looking at your sty, I'd put my bets on a pig!" she spat angrily at him and Paul felt his lips twitching in amusement.

"Yeah, sorry about that. You see, we're contractors and.."

"Really?" Hermione asked shocked. "If this is how _well_ you work, I wonder how you ever get any jobs at all."

"When the weather's good I'm out working on other's houses and when it's bad, we can't work anyway. And to be honest, I was just happy to have a concrete roof over my head for so long, but now that you're here, I'll try to squeeze in all the hours I can and finish it for you as quickly as possible. Just tell how you'd like it done, and…"

Hermione scowled. "There's no need for that. I'll do it after lunch." Paul cocked his brow in doubt. "You can cook, right?" she asked, ignoring his questioning look, dipping her head towards the cooker.

"Not too well," he confessed sheepishly, rubbing at the hair at the back of his head.

"Order in then. I'm starving. And since this is going to a permanent arrangement, you'd best learn to cook, I'm shit at all the domestic stuff."

His smile was blinding. "So, you are staying?" He pressed, needing to her confirmation.

"What choice do I have? I have worked to better the lives of magical creatures, I can't disown mine now, can I? Plus, thanks to you, everything I've worked for has blown up in my face so I have literally nowhere else to go! Not to mention, we're as good as married…"

Paul spluttered. "I'm sorry, what?!"

"This" Hermione tugged her t-shirt again, "is binding. Have I not been screaming that since I arrived? It's a mating mark. You and I, we're mated. Fated. Call it what you may, but that's that. There's gonna be no one else for either of us, ever. _We're_ _it!_ "


	6. Chapter 6

**This is for all my lovely readers who took the time out of their busy lives to drop me reviews that made me write this chapter for them!**

 **To,**

 **SereniteRose, fairyblue1132, loukritia, lighting one, mandorakat, faytiaa, AmethystRoseMalfoy, Glorificus26, sakiy, TwistedWorldsExist, crazyKate92, suziq968, catalina05, CallaRose4ever and tbirdstar...**

 **Thanks a ton guys, you are the very motivation every writer needs!**

 **Chapter 6:**

Hermione was not really surprised the next morning to see the two beefy guys from the beach at Paul's home. What did surprise her though was that one of them was bent over the stove and the other was lugging around stuff, that curiously looked like construction gear, but she did not even feel like identifying any of it so early in the morning. Paul, she saw, was bent on some papers. _House plans…_

"What's happening?" Hermione pinned the three large men with her creased eyes, making the trio halt their work to look at her. Such venomous was her tone.

"And a very good morning to you too, Sunshine," the man in the open kitchen replied. "I'm Jared, by the way. And that one there is Sam. And of course, you know Paul, quite intimately, I hear."

Paul's eyes darted quickly from Jared to Hermione, all the while he was working hard to not let the colour in his cheeks show. His packmates would not let him live in peace otherwise!

"Real funny," Hermione scowled at Jared before turning to glare at Paul. "What's all this now?" she asked gesturing at the helmets and the numerous other paraphernalia that was loitering around the large hall.

"I just wanted to mend the house for you. My friends are here to help me."

"Oh, for crying out loud! Did I not tell you I'll get to it soon! Merlin! What world is this where a woman can't even grieve in peace, without having weird construction implements greeting her in the morning before breakfast," Hermione sighed. "Paul, you simply work on getting edible food on the table, on time if possible, I'll take care of everything else. I did say that yesterday, didn't I?"

"Merlin! But boys and their aggravating toys!" Hermione muttered under her breath, though every wolf in the room heard her. "You'd think age would grant them _some_ wisdom, but no! Their crazy obsessions are gonna be the death of me some day!" Hermione pottered around the large room taking everything in.

"I'm doing this immediately simply because it's got your knickers in a twist. But make sure the breakfast is freaking worth it for me!" Leaving it at that, Hermione again turned a critical eye around the room.

"Now, what did you have in mind?"

"Nothing as of yet. I was looking at the plans when you…"

"A man with no plan!" Hermione said through clenched teeth, as she regarded her soulmate.

"What's your favourite colour?" she asked next.

"Ehm.. green?"

"Fucking perfect! I'm married to a freaking Slytherin-wannabe."

She closed her eyes to picture the room in her mind before she could yield her wand but she quite clearly heard the collective gasp of the room after she'd uttered the _m_ word. _Well, tough!_ For all intents and purposes they were married and she refused to sugar-coat it for anyone.

Pulling her wand out of her bun, getting her hair to cascade down her back, unintentionally mesmerising a particular wolf, Hermione threw a few different splashes of green on the wall in front of her.

"So, which one do you like best?"

Hermione turned around only to find three identical looks on the men in front of her. All had their jaws hanging unbecomingly open and were staring at her with eyes that seemed ready to pop out of their sockets.

"What?" she shrugged her shoulders in question.

For a few seconds all was quiet. _Too_ _quiet_. Before a plethora of noises exploded. Utensils fell. Food splashed across the uncarpeted floor. Sam moved menacingly in her direction. Paul jumped in front of him, pinning him to the wall behind. Quite unintentionally, Hermione's instincts kicked in forcing her to sound-proof the little house.

"She's a threat," Sam growled at Paul.

"You touch her and I'll rip you limb-by-limb," Paul warned, a strange aggression in his eyes that made even his Alpha rethink his course of action.

"What is happening?" Hermione butt in again.

Jared had dashed to his packmates' sides and helped Paul retain Sam while also patting Sam to help him keep his wits about. "You're a witch," he said, mild accusation colouring his tone, making Paul growl at him too.

"Yes, thank you," Hermione's tone was exasperated. "What about it?"

She seemed so calm about the entire wand flaying thing, and yes, they now knew it was a wand that held her hair, that the energy from the three wolves zapped down with her serenity.

"You knew?" Sam growled in her direction, taking care to keep his tone even.

"That I can yield magic? Do you even hear yourself? Of course, I knew! Why? Didn't you know you change into rather large wolves?" she sassily questioned Sam back.

"I.. We.. But.. … How..?" Sam was quiet literally rendered speechless.

"I'm gonna go on a hunch and say you had no idea about magic?"

All three men shook their heads. Hermione whistled.

"Well then. Here goes. I'm a witch. And I can yield magic with my wand." She flicked the wand in her hand for emphasis and left the bit about wandless magic out for now. "Did you guys really think you'd be the only ones with magic in their blood in this entire world?"

"Uhm.. Well.." Jarod cleared his throat. "We never really thought about other magical beings out there."

"I'm not a magical _being_ , you three are. I am, like I said, a witch. And if push comes to shove, I'd have to admit that there are definitely infinitely more of me than of you. Shape-shifters barely make up a tiny percent of the magical population. Witches and wizards on the other hand are past the 80% mark. Magical beings and creatures in general, are such a small fragment of our population, that everyone usually just discounts them or abuses them. I work, well I used to work in a department that tries to change the treatment accorded to the likes of you."

"So.. there's more of you where you came from?'' Sam asked, finally wetting his throat enough to actually string words together.

"There's more of me right here in the US. The MACUSA is the largest magical governing body in the world today. Did they not tell you guys any of this?"

"We don't know anything about the MACUSA," Jarod said, his brows furrowed.

Hermione's eyebrows quite literally disappeared in her hair.

"How did you guys phase and all then? I mean, what happened after the first phasing? Did no one from your ministry come to explain things to you?"

The idea of someone coming over with brochures to explain their _condition_ to them sounded so foreign that all the three men snorted in unison. "No. Our tribe elders spoke to us. They shared some legends and we inferred all the information from them."

And everything just suddenly clicked in Hermione's head, all the jumbled pieces falling finally in place. _Paul hadn't said anything because he himself didn't know anything!_ It was then Hermione noticed that Paul had kept completely mum all through this new debacle, too. Simply pinning his freakingly large friend to the wall when he thought she might be threatened. _He had honestly meant no harm!_

"Choose a colour," Hermione said catching Paul's eyes and tilting her chin to point at the paint splashes that had started the entire debacle in the first place. "Let me quickly finish this and then we can discuss everything over our breakfast."

Nodding, Jarod and Sam walked to kitchen, now more than ever wanting to get the cooking done to understand exactly what was happening.

Paul on the other hand walked cautiously close to Hermione. He stared at her intently before breaking his gaze and looking at all the colours splashed on the wall. "This one," he said, finally pointing at a light mint green shade. Hermione nodded. "Do.." he cleared his throat and tried again. "Do you like it too?'' he asked then.

"Yes," Hermione softly whispered. "I only showed you the shades of green I am willing to live with." And then she turned away from him, her wand dancing in her hand as she had the walls colour themselves. A few more twists and flicks from her had the stuff splattered across the hall rearranging itself, until finally a sense of decorum settled over the newly done-up hall. "I'll work on the tit-bits later, alright?" Paul nodded, offering her small smile.

Jarod whistled from the kitchen. "Not bad at all, missy."

Hermione smirked her response and turned to Paul again. "So, you really did not know.. that day.. what was happening..?"

"No," Paul emphatically shook his head. "Please, please believe me, Hermione. I honestly had no idea," he continued, enveloping her dainty hands, wand and all, in his large warm ones. "I don't know if I could have stopped my wolf from coming out to play like that, but I would never have done it without speaking to you first. Please, believe me… I…"

"Paul.." Hermione cut in. "I believe you. I.. I'm not angry on you anymore. And I'm.. I'm sorry for everything I said. Sometimes I let my temper get the best of me. And I know I have a vindictive side," she grimaced.

"No.. No, don't apologize," Paul said, tugging their entwined hands closer to his chest.

Their eyes met, each looking intently at the other. Seeking answers, assurances.. and something a little more deeper.

"We'll get through this, right? Everything that life's dealt us with.. Your magic and.. and mine?"

Paul nodded. "I'll do everything in my power to make your life here happy. And if you don't want to stay here, then we'll move anywhere you want to go but we'll make this work, Hermione. Magic or no magic, you'll always be mine and I'll take care of you. I'll love you. I'll protect you. If you only let me…."

Hermione rose up on her toes and then pushed herself up a little more before her lips finally met their destination. She awarded Paul's words with a sweet, albeit small, kiss before coming back down on her feet again. The twinkle of his eyes and the rather big grin he was sporting was enough of a proof for Hermione that kissing Paul had been the right thing to do.

"I will. We can do this. Let's. Together."

"Yes, together.." Paul loved how that word sounded. Especially when it came from his little witch...

...

Author's Note: Let's just say they all sat down for breakfast and caught each other up on the tribal legends, tribal elders and their roles and the MACUSA. A few years down the line I see Hermione establishing a small office affiliated with the MACUSA that works with such smaller fractions of the magical population by educating them about themselves, others like them and most importantly about the government that directly or indirectly governs them!

Paul is obviously already crazy about our heroine but over the course of time I see them actually falling _in_ love with each other for what they are instead of some magical bond forcing them into it. They'd be married and have a few kids, three sons I think (therefore Hermione's decision to work in a smaller self-owned office rather than at the Ministry itself). I see the elder one as a complete Paul Jr. down to his swooning ladies since his cradle. The second one would be a Paul look-alike again but be a complete mumma's boy behaviour, taste and interest – wise. The last one I see as the baby of the family. Pampered by the entire reservation! Kind of like a junior version of James Potter the Senior, you know, kind yet mischievous, adorable but arrogant but a loyal friend till the end? And maybe a surprise pregnancy might come along and the happy couple might finally be blessed with a little girl, that the two parents were secretly craving, who would definitely have her father and her brothers wrapped around her tiny little finger since birth. In turn, she'd be the most protected girl in all of Forks, over the reservation and obviously at Hogwarts as I don't see her brothers letting her off the hook even there. Oh! And yes, Hogwarts because I can't see Hermione sending her kids to any other school!

There! That's for you all my readers! Thank you for all your love and support!

Love,

Crazy Ana


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